


Would You Offer Your Throat to the Wolf (With the Red Roses)

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Priest (2011)
Genre: Blood Drinking, F/M, Gen, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-26
Updated: 2011-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-26 13:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Black Hat finds his victim, and feeds from her fear as much as he does from her blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Would You Offer Your Throat to the Wolf (With the Red Roses)

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the spoken intro to the song “You Took The Words Right Out of My Mouth” by Meat Loaf. Warnings include blood-letting, vampirism, just general vampire related business, really.
> 
> Written for this year's [smallfandomfest](http://smallfandomfest.livejournal.com)

The sky above was darkening, horizon drifting down from twilight into true night. Black Hat sat alone in a carriage of a speeding train, feeling the floor beneath his feet rock beneath his booted feet. His eyes were closed, head bowed so that the large brim of his hat hid the majority of his stubbled face from view. If anyone had come in at that moment in time, they would naturally assume that Black Hat was sleeping. In that, they would be completely wrong.

Black Hat was a vampire, the strongest of his kind and the only human/vampire hybrid known anywhere. He’d been a Priest before his current incarnation, a super warrior that was picked by the Church to kill the manner of predatorial beast which he now was. It had always seemed ironic to the Black Hat that he would be dragged off during the ambush at Sola Mira, left for dead by his fellow priests and priestesses, ironic because they believed him lost to the trap so obviously set for them.

In that, they’d been wrong too. He’d been turned, feasted upon by the vampires before the Queen of the hive reached him, turning him into a vampire himself. Her blood, mingled with his own power turned him into a beast no one had ever encountered before. That knowledge had set Black Hat apart from everyone, made him a natural leader, fierce, ferocious, powerful. He still remembered the days when the Church had lied to them all, saying that vampires no longer existed outside of the reservations they’d been sent to after the last Great War. If only they had been, then Black Hat wouldn’t have been left by his so called comrades. The need for revenge, against Church and past comrades both, burned strong within him, as strong as the new blood that coursed powerfully through his veins.

A slight noise attracted Black Hat’s attention, yet he barely moved; instead, the only indication ha gave to even noticing the noise was a slight uptilt to his chin, burning yellow eyes piercing through the gloom. The noise came again and Black Hat straightened, rising to his feet, imposing height seeming to fill the space where he stood. His coat brushed the backs of his thighs with every movement he made, eyes glinting in the shadow of the hat that threw across his face, fangs hidden behind full lips as he stared at the Familiar that had dared to enter his sanctum.

Black Hat remained silent, waiting for the other to speak, smiling to himself in a private aside when the Familiar actually seemed nervous of him. Then again, the Familiar had every reason to be. No one was a match for Black Hat, which in itself, wasn’t a bad thing. He was left to go unopposed by the majority and the only real threat to him was the Priests and even they would be hard pressed to dispose of him. The vampires and Familiars both beneath his gloved hand presented no such threat to him.

“We’re nearly at the city walls,” the Familiar said, turning strangely translucently blue eyes upon Black Hat.

Black Hat stared back unflinchingly, yellow eyes burning fire in the gloom.

“Fine,” he growled, eventually, when the silence dragged on too long between them. “You can leave, now.”

“Thank you, Master,” the Familiar said, as he gave Black Hat a scraping bow.

Black Hat sneered slightly at the fawning Familiar, disgusted by his subservient behaviour, yet ultimately greatly amused by it. He watched the other being leaving, back turned and footsteps clonking over the rattling floor of the train. Finally Black Hat was alone with his thoughts once more.

~*~*~*~

Later that evening and Black Hat strode through the streets of milling civilians, buildings and people both crowding in upon him. His head was lowered slightly, yet still his eyes glinted from beneath the shade provided by his hat. His long coat swirled about his tall frame, hands flexing and clenching by his side in unconscious little gestures. He was alone again, needing the thrill of a solitary hunt that night. His nostrils flared and relaxed every time that a new body pressed close, warm, blood singing through their life’s veins and calling to the predator inside him. Black Hat snarled at a vagrant when the man came too close, blood addled by drugs and booze, too impure for the tastes of Black Hat. The vagrant dissipated back into the crowd, frightened by the feral snarl of the vampire before him, and the angry glitter of beast-like yellow eyes.

Black Hat moved on, instantly forgetting about the vagrant, predator’s stare pinning out likely victims for his evening meal. He entered a bar, wooden floor clonking beneath his booted feet in hollow little thumps, room a welcome and quiet relief from the endless turmoil of the streets outside. There were few patrons in the place that night, yet Black Hat wasn’t disappointed by that change of pace. It made the hunt a little easier, with less bodies to focus upon.

It didn’t take him long to find a potential victim. A singularly beautiful female sat alone in the shadows, slender frame bowed and unhurried, unfettered by chaos from without and within. She glanced up at Black Hat as he passed, gazes meeting, yet she did not flinch back from his yellow eyed gaze, nor the scent of the predator that hung about him. Instead, she smiled and turned away, almost demurely. Black Hat smiled to himself; he’d marked his feed already and she didn’t yet know it.

He melted back into the shadows and waited, knowing from the empty state of her glass that she would be likely to leave soon and in that, he was not proved wrong. In a rustle of skirts and boots, she stood, tipping a farewell nod to the bartender before disappearing from the bar, into the streets outside. Black Hat flitted after her, prowling through the press of humanity outside and always keeping her in his sights.

Every so often, she would turn slightly as she walked, a puzzled frown working across her smooth brow, yet Black Hat was certain to meld into the shadows, to prolong the thrill of the hunt for a while longer. Her fear now was sharper, far more prominent and defined than it had been inside the bar, and her pace soon became hurried, boots picking up the pace as she fled from terrors unknown in the darkness behind her. Black Hat wondered then why such an attractive woman would be out alone, yet found he didn’t ultimately care. As long as he fed that night, what did it matter to him if his meal was alone? It would be all the better for him in the long run.

She disappeared down a side alley, and he almost missed her plunging escape, swivelling quickly in order to keep up with her. The alley was deserted and resulted in a dead end, something that quickly became obvious to both of them. She whipped around, nose almost colliding with Black Hat’s chest as he stole up behind her, hands rising to pin against her shoulders. Her body was lax in his grasp, loose with terror, with an undercurrent of taut fear thrumming through her muscles. She stared up at him, eyes pulled wide, lips parted as she searched his face for signs of weakness.

“Don’t hurt me,” she said, fear tightening her voice and making a mockery of her earlier smile at him in the bar.

He grinned slightly at her, baring his fangs, eyes catching the light in a feral state of hunger. She startled back, hand flying to her throat, free fist pushing uselessly at his chest as she tried to get away. Still, beneath her obvious fear, there was that undercurrent of curiosity and desire that all victims felt when faced with him. It was the inevitable call of the predator to the prey, that indescribable something that informed all of life and gave Black Hat that satisfactory thrill of power he always craved. He leant down and sniffed her, nuzzling her neck and she screamed.

“Sssshhh,” he crooned into her ear, cradling her against him with one arm. “This will be quick, I promise.”

“No,” she said again, struggling to get away, yet she was no match for the vampire that had trapped her.

“You want this, or you would not have smiled at me in the bar. You would not be willing now,” Black Hat growled, noting that the woman’s struggles were diminishing now by degrees.

Her fear was still strong and acrid in his nostrils, yet there was that faint smell of lassitude and defeat about her, as though she knew her demise was inevitable.

“I am ... I am not willing,” the woman said, voice choked with fear.

“You offer me your throat,” Black Hat said, eyebrows raising as she turned her head away, revealing the long line of her neck. “You should not offer your throat to the wolf if you do not mean it.”

“Please,” the woman said, eyes squinching shut as her head remained turned to the side. “Make it quick.”

“I’ll even offer you red roses if it makes you feel better,” Black Hat snorted.

“What?” the woman asked, turning her confused gaze up at him before she realized that sarcasm laced his words and his expression.

“Never mind,” Black Hat replied, soothingly, fangs bared now, gaze raking her face and the exposed line of her throat.

Her body relaxed in his arms, eyes screwed shut as he darted forward and sank his teeth into her neck. She had no breath left to scream, as he drank her life through her throat, fear turning her blood sweeter as it slid down his throat. His eyes drifted closed, snarl of hunger rumbling in his chest as he fed, pleasure coiling through him as he thought that nothing tasted as sweet as the blood of the fearful.

He let her go afterwards, not quite draining her of the blood he craved from her. He knew that he’d be back to collect her by the time the night was through, after he’d fed sufficiently. He knew that the pathogens in his saliva would have worked on her by morning, turning her into another of his faithful, subservient Familiars.


End file.
